By Olivia Bennett for Wonders of the World
“Whoever arrives in Marseille is at home.” — Jean-Claude Izzo
We left Savona in the afternoon, the sun soft over the Ligurian coast. I still had time for one last espresso before boarding — strong, bitter, just the way I like it. The ship glided out quietly, and by sunrise, I was in France.
The morning light over Marseille was pure gold. There’s something about waking up to a new port — that little rush of curiosity mixed with calm.
At first glance, Marseille felt loud, a little chaotic — but in a way that instantly pulls you in. The scent of salt and grilled fish, the echo of laughter from the port, scooters weaving through narrow streets. This city breathes with the rhythm of the sea.
My first stop was the Notre-Dame de la Garde, the grand basilica the locals lovingly call La Bonne Mère — the Good Mother. From up there, the view sweeps across the old port and the blue Mediterranean. Inside, the red-and-white stripes made me think of Christmas — warm, unexpected, comforting.
Back in town, I wandered to Le Four des Navettes, Marseille’s oldest bakery. Their famous orange-blossom biscuits are charming, but if you ever go, try the almond ones — heavenly. From there, I strolled to the Vieux-Port, where fishermen sell the morning’s catch and artists display their crafts. It’s one of those places where you could stand still for hours, just watching life unfold.
Later, I lost myself in Le Panier, the city’s oldest quarter. Narrow streets, pastel houses, street art everywhere. I bought a loaf of bread at Pétrin Cochinette, goat cheese at L’Art de la Fromagerie, and fresh tomatoes and pears at La Chicorée. I found a sunny stairway on the Cours Julien, sat down, and had my makeshift lunch — simple, fresh, perfect.
In the afternoon, I visited Maison Empereur, a family-run shop that feels part museum, part wonderland — full of vintage treasures and old-world charm. A few blocks away, Herboristerie du Père Blaize offered something entirely different: shelves lined with herbs, tinctures, and centuries-old remedies. I left with a few lavender soaps from Savonnerie du Moulin à Grain — because really, who can leave Marseille without its famous soap?
As the sun dipped into the horizon, the boats rocked gently in the harbor, turning gold in the fading light. Tomorrow, we’ll be at sea all day — heading for Naples.
But tonight, Marseille stays with me.
A city shaped by the sea, and made for those who arrive with an open heart.